Seeing as the simplification/un-‘stuffing’ process takes so long, I’m increasingly keen not to have to go through this again and again in the future. “It’s impossible,” says my brother-in-law, “things just keep pouring into the home, you just can’t help it – clothes, gadgets, toys…”

“Yes,” replies my wife, “I went shopping the other day to get one pair of shoes for our son, and came back with 3 bags – the shoes, plus a pair of trousers and 2 shirts – 3 times what I originally went out to get!”

The solution I’ve hit upon, is two-fold:

First of all: One in, One out. If I get a new book, one has to go from the shelves, if I buy a new sketchbook, an old one has to go (“…but you have to keep all your old sketchbooks to see your artistic development” says the voice in my head that really belongs to everyone else on the planet that likes drawing…) I realise this is going to be hard.

Secondly: And More importantly… I’m going to really think carefully about buying, accepting, or in any way acquiring any new stuff! I’m going to ask the question, “do I really need this?” whenever the temptation arises to bring something new into my life – be it a book, a gadget, a hobby, a project, a dream. Will it really make me any happier than enjoying what I’ve already got?

This applies to giving other people things too, like birthday presents. If I give someone a book, I’m putting pressure on them to read and give me feedback on it! If I give them an object, they have to find somewhere to keep it! As I get rid of the overwhelming amount of stuff in my own life, I don’t want to impose stuff on others.

My wife thinks the best present is homemade food, which gives great pleasure, and then is gone – I think she may be right.

The hardest thing in the Unstuffing-simplification process are the voices of resistance in your head that say “What? Are you mad? You can’t get rid of…” and there you can just fill the blank.

“Deleting that novel you wrote? It might be a masterwork, surely you’ll want to revise it and have a go at publishing it one day!” No thanks! That very thought has been using up a corner of my brain for the last 5 years and I haven’t done anything about it so far!

“Are you sure you won’t use those camera lenses again one day?” I haven’t used them in 3 years, and uncle Quique has just bought a new camera and is going to love using them right now!

“Shredding old diaries? Are you mad?! You’ll want to read those when you are old/your children will love them.” No thanks! I do not want my children knowing what I got up to when I was 18! And people who never wrote diaries are perfectly happy without them.

These voices of resistance are not ours. It’s our mum, best friend, Society… listen carefully to them and you’ll soon recognise who they belong to. If it’s not me, I can ignore them, and happily get on with releasing the article/idea in question.

My wise doctor friend Chus recently made the following point about one’s physical health:

I (Chus) live on my own, usually eat alone, and at most will have one or two friends round for a meal. So if I have 12 plates, bowls, glasses etc in the cupboard, it is clearly far more than I need. It would become a weight on me somehow to have 12 of everything when I only need 3 or 4, and I’m sure it somehow ends up reflecting in me physically as well – it’s a kind of congestion. Think of all the stuff people keep unnecessarily – even hiring out storage space to keep all the stuff they can’t fit at home but never use anyway – it’s madness!

This got me thinking. The bookshelves at home were so stuffed full of books that they were in danger of exploding out onto the living room floor at any moment.

Looking at them, I had the feeling that the bookshelves somehow reflected the state of my brain – too much stuff (things to do, things to read, ideas, courses, plans) squashed in, hovering around a breaking point – I had to find some space!

So after Chus’s comment about the plates, I knew things had to go. A lot of things. I knew I had to strip away all the stuff crammed in, on top of, and around me, to see what was really underneath.

The bookshelves needed urgent relief. I selected around 150 books to get rid of, books that I had read and knew I’d never read again, books that were really good and deserved to be read by other people instead of languishing in our flat for ever more.

I took them to an old guy we call the Book Man who sits in the corner of the local park selling books he lays out on a low wall at 2 euros a go. He’s unemployed, finding a simple way to make a living, and is delighted to get free stock. In return for the books, he gives me a heart-felt thank you and a huge smile.

Now there is at least 6 inches of free space at the end of every one of my bookshelves. The books have space, and there is more space in my brain again.

What else could I clear out or get rid of?

Realising the books were just one of the congested areas of my stuff-life, I’ve started on everything else:

I arrived in Spain in 1998 with 2 large bags, mostly full of clothes and a few books. I’ve acquired a wife, a son, friends, and a home since then, and I have no intention of getting rid of any of them.

But as for my personal stuff, I feel I’d like to get down to having just a couple of large bag’s worth again. I can feel the decongestion and the relief already. It feels wonderful. Somewhere under all that stuff, under all those undone projects and plans, is me.

Listen to the Podcast

We use our own and third party cookies to offer you a better navigation experience, analyse traffic to the site, and personalise content. More info on cookies and managing them. If you continue to use this site, you accept the use of these cookies.Ok